post-noon pool

I am stagnant,
In the post-noon pool,
An unsettling sestet,
A five foot something
Made of six foot expectations,
Incomplete and afraid
To dive and rhyme and end.

Diving inwards,
I am stagnant,
Confined, in an
Unending compromise.
I am punctuated,
With unmoving straight lines
Carrying ground and curveballs.
Soft fear under fingernails,
I have courage only enough
To call disappointment mine.

To end and exit here
Is to fit into a box-
With one silver-lined sky
And a three-dimensional mind,
A rubric with corners
For trust and belief. And myself.
To liberate with-
I trust the process, the words.
I believe in myself, the world.
I am enough, I always have been.

I am sorry, but this freedom,
With a bow around it,
Does not appeal to me.
This exhale with edges,
Reduces me to hope,
Pinning optimism on my skin,
When it is fear and fear of failure 
That have faultily fuelled me.
I don't want to let my feet down 
On stable ground, and own trust and belief.
My lacking of it makes my materiality. 
To give me space would be 
To see it left unfilled,
I could never gather enough mind
To occupy it and call it mine. 

So, I sit and I wait,
In the post-noon pool,
For the approaching sunset.
I am stagnant but the skies are not. 
With the promise of a perpetual chase,
I look for a different kind of freedom. 
One that never dives and rhymes and ends.
Maybe the watershed will arrive
At the end of all thought.